By Olenka Melnyk

The terrace of the Provincial Museum of Alberta used to be a sterile wasteland, particularly in the summer when the sun would bounce off the concrete in a blinding glare.

But that all changed three years ago when a trio of young sculptors approached the museum about using the space to exhibit their large outdoor work.

“The big blank pad was an ideal spot to exhibit our sculpture,” says Mark Bellows, one of the members of the North Edmonton Sculpture Workshop, which opens its third annual show, Big Things 3, at the museum this afternoon.

The trio of struggling artists needed to raise their profile. And the terrace, located at the front of the museum, is a prime heavy-traffic area.

“Everybody goes to the museum and we figured they’ll see our show,” says Andrew French, who pitched the idea with Bellows and Ryan McCourt to museum officials who were skeptical at first.

“It was a bit of a leap for us. Dealing with abstract sculpture is not part of our core mandate,” says museum assistant director Tim Willis. “We had no idea how it would animate that area or the lively response it would spark from visitors and staff. It just goes to show how art can transform an inert public space.”

Every spring, the three sculptors hire two flatbed crane trucks “for a special artists’ rate” and haul away their old show. They then spend two days installing their new pieces, huge steel works that range in size from three to five metres and 700 to 1,800 kilograms.

Each work reflects the distinctive style of its creator, from McCourt’s graceful elegance and warm hues to French’s brute size and primary colours and Bellows’ ironic contradictions. His huge piece is painted in army camouflage.

The three sculptors, who studied together at the University of Alberta’s art and design department, share a studio sandwiched between a muffler shop and a curling supply store. They also share tools (chop saws, welding torches and hoists) and criticism of each other’s work.

The support–financial and creative–is essential in a discipline where it’s difficult to make a name or earn a basic living, even in a city like Edmonton, which is known for its abstract sculpture.

“Even in this supportive environment, making ambitious steel sculpture is an inordinately demanding artistic practice,” says McCourt.

Industrial space can be difficult to find and is often unaffordable. Insurance and tools are expensive. Each piece requires several months to create, but the market is limited. Few private buyers want big sculpture in their homes or yards. And few want to pay the price of the trio’s work, which ranges from several hundred dollars to $12,000. Then, there are transportation and installation challenges, which limit the venues in which the sculpture can be shown.

“We have to make our own opportunities,” says Bellows. “We have to find the space and convince people to let us show our work. Then we have to install it, because they don’t send moving trucks to our door to pick it up.”

Bellows considers himself “very lucky” that a Quebec collector bought his sculpture from last year’s museum show for his eight-hectare art park. Meanwhile, his two colleagues had to scramble to store their unsold pieces, a perennial problem. They’ve already used up all the space in their parents’ backyards, and now they’re using the U of A farm to park their work.

“There’s a marginal market for sculpture, let alone big pieces,” says Lando Gallery owner Brent Luebke, who exhibited the work of the three sculptors this winter. “In the late ‘60s and ‘70s, Edmonton was on the cutting edge of contemporary steel sculpture, but the trend never caught on among the wider public.”

The workshop artists bill themselves as the new, and second generation, of abstract steel sculptors in Edmonton, the inheritors of a heavy metal tradition that dates back 30 years.

In the ‘70s, Terry Fenton, then the director of the Edmonton Art Gallery, was an energetic promoter of abstract steel sculpture and artists. The form was further nurtured by Peter Hide, a respected British sculptor, who started teaching at the U of A in 1977. Commissions were plentiful in the high-rolling oil boom days, and a whole generation of talented sculptors emerged–Al Reynolds, Roy Leadbeater, Catherine Burgess, Ken Macklin, Royden Mills and Susan Owen.

“There was a tremendous outburst of activity in that direction,” says Hide, who adds that Edmonton may now have more sculptors than the economy can sustain.

“Some of them may have to go further afield to be successful, and many of them, especially those in the early stages of their careers, will do so.”

But the workshop members want to make their mark here. “It’s a perfect environment for outdoor sculpture,” says McCourt. With its long dreary winters, Edmonton badly needs an infusion of visual energy. “It’s a no-brainer.”

Talk of economics and money sends McCourt and his colleagues into a gloomy tailspin. “I don’t know how long we can keep going like this; something’s gotta give,” he says, while the other two nod in agreement.

But ask them why they keep doing the Big Work and they appear taken aback by the question.

The work decides what it needs, and it needs to be bold and dramatic,” replies French. “It’s about having a big physical presence.”

The artists will discuss their sculpture today at the museum between 1 p.m. and 6 p.m. The show also features work by Hide, Macklin and Mills.